


Three's a Crowd

by MaskedShipper



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cecil Is Not Described, Earl Just Wants to Get Laid, Established Cecilos, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Third Wheels, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 11:03:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15993845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskedShipper/pseuds/MaskedShipper
Summary: Earl wasn't sure what to make of this. He’d long since given up the idea that he and Cecil could reconcile anything, and honestly, he’d moved on, too. When work wasn’t keeping him occupied, his son (hewashis son, right?) took the rest of his attention. There was no time for romance, but more importantly, there wasn’t an interest in it, either. There was a lot he had to figure out in life, a lot he had to focus on –– but ithadbeen a while since he’d gotten laid.orCarlos and Cecil invite Earl over for a threesome, and after some hesitation, Earl agrees. He just wishes, once the clothes came off, that they'd remember that he was there, too.





	Three's a Crowd

_I’m writing you this message for personal reasons. Please respond when you have sufficient time._

That was the text Carlos had sent, signed with his name, scientific title, current best bowling score (327, not that impressive, but not too bad, either), and laboratory address. Earl thought something might have been wrong – maybe the scientist had figured something out about Roger, or about all his missing years, or anything about the Eternal Boy Scouts. 

But those were professional reasons, and nothing that he couldn’t tell Cecil. If Cecil knew, then _everyone_ knew – that was how his radio show worked, right? 

So it was with slight hesitance and an appropriate, City Council approved amount of curiosity, that he called him after his shift at Tourniquet. It was an odd conversation, mainly because Carlos sounded so calm and collected while Cecil’s voice popped up, muffled and excited, at times to tell Carlos what to add. 

Carlos was calling because they were afraid if it was Cecil, it might cloud Earl’s judgement one way or another. The couple was interested in a date to discuss potential intercourse ( _Oh, tell him how good my orange milk sangria is! I’ll make it for him if he wants when he comes over, no problem!_ ) because they thought a threesome might be nice, and there weren’t many people they trusted as much as they trusted Earl. They understood the declination, and, Carlos reassured, even if they met up only to decide it wasn’t going to happen, at least they’ll all have had dinner and drinks together, and that was always fun, no matter what happened later (there was a stifled _no, Cecil, I’m not asking him to make us dessert if we’re the ones hosting_ ) through the static of the phone. 

“Oh, uh,” Earl said, to which Carlos offered a patient, if rather scientific, hum. The chef wasn’t sure what to make of this. He’d long since given up the idea that he and Cecil could reconcile anything, and honestly, he’d moved on, too. When work wasn’t keeping him occupied, his son (he _was_ his son, right?) took the rest of his attention. There was no time for romance, but more importantly, there wasn’t an interest in it, either. There was a lot he had to figure out in life, a lot he had to focus on – 

– but it _had_ been a while since he’d gotten laid. 

“I’ll bring Tiramisu,” he finally settled for as an answer, to which Carlos said that sounded perfect and Cecil hummed a happy _neat!_ in the background.

Dinner was a nice affair. No one brought up sex, even in passing, and the ratatouille that Carlos made was pretty good, even if it was still a little sentient. Amateur’s mistake, and Earl wouldn’t hold it against him. He added more salt discretely to make up for it, all while trying to think this through. 

Cecil spent most of the time talking about what was going on at the Radio Station, eyes alight in excitement or dull with foreboding information, depending on what the specific topic was. His hands, long and elegant and so very familiar to Earl, were rough and calloused – this, he knew from memory – due to his hobbies and not his occupation. He still liked to tinker with old radio machines, or the ones that had come from the future, or maybe his car was giving him trouble – the radio host had always been surprisingly handy. Boy Scouts did that to you. 

And Carlos’ hands, though Earl could assume he used them all day, looked… softer. Broader, certainly, and with a strength hidden beneath a rather gentle composure, dark hair starting almost at his knuckles and sneaking up on his forearms, disappearing beneath a lab coat, but decidedly gentler. 

“Alright,” Earl said decisively, though no one had asked him a question. Two sets of eyes fell to him, Cecil blinking in confusion at having been interrupted, and Carlos’ lips tugged upward, a knowing smile, wry but sure, having appeared. Earl cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, feeling his ears begin to burn with embarrassment. “I think I’d… we could. You know.” 

“Copulate?” Carlos offered, ever scientific. 

“Apply for the appropriate paperwork?” Cecil offered, ever romantic. 

Earl parted his lips to reply, but shut them, brows furrowed for a moment as he looked around the room. Where…? Oh! He spotted an old looking teapot there, just hanging in the ceiling corner above him, and if he saw that it was hiding a rather large recording device, well, he promptly forgot he had. “I think appropriate paperwork would be good,” he told the teapot, voice loud and crisp. 

They cleared the table, the meal over, and when Cecil was putting things back in the fridge, he squealed excitedly, claiming the paperwork was already there and _wow, what fast service! We are so lucky for our helpful, always watching - Always. Watching. – government officials!_ They did the dishes together because Earl insisted it was proper etiquette regardless of how Cecil claimed he should sit and relax, and Carlos promised that as soon as it was done, they could all settle down together to discuss things. 

Hopefully, it was going to be a long night. Earl couldn’t help the silly grin he wore or the red burning at the tips of his ears. 

They moved to the bedroom, as promised, and Earl took a spot against the lush pillows and headboard with Carlos sitting cross legged beside him and Cecil sprawled on his stomach at their feet, face resting on his hand, legs swinging about, eyes glazed over in a way that let Earl know that he was already thinking of the night ahead. It made his pants feel impossibly tight. 

The scientist was methodical, going over the things that might occur tonight, though none of it was guaranteed, he’d reassured, so that he might gage both Earl’s consent and interest. Carlos’ eyes were dark, a lovely shade of amber, but they seemed to grow hungrier the more he spoke, the more he asked Earl if he’d like this or that, though his voice never gave him away. Earl shivered. He answered dutifully, though, checking his own boxes in his mind. 

And then Cecil’s hand was on his thigh and Carlos stopped talking. It seemed his breath was caught in his throat – just like Earl’s. 

“We’re going to have quite some fun, huh, Early Bird?” Cecil whispered, all husk and rich darkness and desire. The hand slid higher, fingers reaching to palm him through his jeans, and – 

“A _hem_ ,” came a bored reminder from the open window. 

“Oh, yes, of course, Isaiah. What I _said_ , was – we’re going to have _quite_ some fun, huh, Early Bird? That’s… that’s what I used to call him, in our youth,” Cecil explained, talking in a strong, clear voice to the person hidden in the night, just outside and listening in. The radio host must have been real out of it to forget his civic duty. 

It made Earl all the hotter. 

Cecil looked sheepish, worried his bottom lip with his teeth while he shrugged his forgetful nature as if he could physically dismiss it. All the while, Earl’s eyes were caught on that pretty mouth, on that growing, uncertain smile. Only until, of course, those long, calloused fingers were back at his crotch. 

Carlos shifted beside them, shedding his shirt and slacks only to put his lab coat back on, but Earl only caught glimpses of it, because Cecil had already grown tired of dragging his palm against Earl’s thighs and waistband, deciding, instead, to undo the buttons and pull his pants off completely. 

“Here, Hun, this’ll help.” Carlos, ever mindful of Cecil’s well-being, got to work putting pillows on the ground by Earl’s spot on the bed, which confused him slightly, except - oh. There Cecil went, slipping onto his knees like he’d done this a thousand times before, sliding his deft fingers against Earl’s legs to guide them off the bed so he could settle between them. Carlos joined him, kneeling on pillows, too, so that Earl had to spread his legs wider to have them both comfortably between them. 

Cecil aimed his coy smile Carlos’ way, who aimed his yearning gaze right back, so that Earl had to shift and clear his throat, a reminder that he was still there, cock starting to harden. 

The fingers on his dick were soft and careful, confident in the pressure of their grip, as only a scientist’s hands could be. Carlos stroked and explored, taking his time in a way that was at odds with how his eyes had gone dark and his mouth open in anticipation. And then there was a tongue against him, catching on the dark fingers at the base of him, tracing the thick vein only to circle the head teasingly, and oh, it had been so long, and Cecil’s mouth was wet and hot and – 

“Such a beautiful mouth you’ve got, Sweetness,” Carlos breathed appreciatively, voice lower, huskier, than it had been earlier. Cecil gave a happy hum at the praise and went back to his kitten licks at Earl’s cock, short swipes intermittent with broad strokes of his tongue, lips dragging against Earl’s growing hardness and at Carlos’ hand, still stroking him languidly, until Earl was hard enough for him to slip easily into his mouth. 

Earl hissed, spreading himself wider as if that might encourage Cecil to speed up – to no avail. Cecil went at his own pace, unhurried by Earl’s ragged breathing or his pale fingers gripping at the bed sheets. “I think he’d like for you to pick up the pace, Hun,” Carlos whispered against Cecil’s neck, who shivered and sucked harder, pressing his face down against Earl’s cock, only to come back up and suckle at the head of it before bobbing down once more, an obscene slurp breaking the heavy rhythm of Earl’s breathing. Still far too slow, but better. Definitely better. 

“Cecil,” Earl moaned, eyes shut tight and head fallen back. “Cecil, I – ”

“Mmn, you’re still not quite giving him what he needs, Love. This requires further experimentation.” And then Cecil’s mouth pulled away and Earl let out a pitiful whimper at the loss of contact, except, _oh_ , this was good too, this was – 

There were two sets of mouths on him now, two tongues dragging against his impossibly aching hardness, two sets of lips mouthing at his base, at the length of him, suckling and leaving hot, messy kisses as they went. Earl throbbed painfully between them, breath coming in short gasps, hands finding solace in Carlos’ hair, against Cecil’s shoulder, gripping but not pulling, no, never rushing, because this was too good for him to risk hurting them, to risk them pulling away.

His cock was covered in drool and slickness from his own dick, and each of them lapped it up only to leave more in the wake of their talented tongues. The brush of lips on his cock began to linger, strangely sweet for something so _lewd_ , before the two caught up to each other, mouths meeting, and before Earl’s eyes, Carlos and Cecil were kissing, moaning, brows furrowed as they caressed Earl’s thighs, his balls, each other, his dick pressing against their cheeks and jaw as they rubbed their lips against each other’s again and again, drawing out whimpers and moans from their throats, and – 

And that was going on for a long time, wasn’t it? Cecil’s hands were in Carlos’ hair instead of rubbing at Earl’s legs, tugging him closer, desperate to share his breath, and Carlos – Carlos had his hands up Cecil’s shirt, soft, careful hands sliding up his ribs, down his back, slipping into the waistband of his pants... 

Earl’s dick was still there, nestled between their faces. Ignored. 

His hands fell back to the bed, but they weren’t gripping the sheets desperately like they had before, only just settled there, patient, as his lips pursed and he watched. Watched Carlos and Cecil get lost in each other’s pleasure, watched Carlos’ broad hands squeeze at Cecil’s ass, palm him through his leggings, watched as Cecil’s arms went around Carlos’ shoulders, tugging him closer, his noises louder, needier, sucking at his mouth like his life depended on it. It was nice, certainly, but Earl couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding on their intimate moment, so he just… waited, cock flagging slightly, mind wandering to give the couple some privacy, wondering if maybe he should make a ratatouille of his own for the chef’s special at his restaurant next week. 

They pulled away for air, murmuring sweet nothings against sweaty jaws and necks, Carlos mumbling a small _oh_ when he nuzzled Earl’s erection when he’d tried to nuzzle against Cecil’s temple. Earl was brought out of his thoughts when there was an apologetic kiss to his dick, and then another, until Carlos, still with his hands down the front of Cecil’s pants, swallowed him. There were no fingers to distract his mouth, only a slick wetness that Earl could sink into. His breath caught in his throat as Carlos took him the whole way, humming his achievement happily when his nose was settled against Earl’s pubes, sucking away like air wasn’t necessary for people of science, like he could stay there, pleasing him all night, and right, yes, Earl was reminded that this could be fun for him, too. 

He watched his cock disappear past Carlos’ parted lips, and the scientist was much more merciful than Cecil had been, swallowing around him again and again, tongue dragging against the underside of Earl’s cock each time he thrust himself back onto it. Earl let his fingers slide through dark curls, encouraging him, reminding him that this was good, _so good_ , in a way his voice couldn’t quite put together. Cecil had moved, no longer between Earl’s legs, instead behind his lover, slipping his own pants down and off and burying his face against the scientist’s neck. He let out sweet little whimpers as he rocked against Carlos’ ass, no doubt catching against that pucker of muscle, something Earl could tell by the way Carlos cried out against his dick, falling forward onto it, fucking Earl harder with just his mouth as he thrust back against his boyfriend. 

“Let’s move this to the bed,” Cecil whispered, a message obviously meant for Carlos since Earl was, well, you know. Already there. He wanted to plead, to say no, _please_ , just let the scientist finish his work, but Carlos pulled away with reddened, swollen lips, and when he said, _sure, Hun_ , his voice was gravelly and rough in the best way. Earl felt his ears go red with both pride and embarrassment, his cock giving an appreciative twitch. He’d caused that, after all. 

It took a few moments, but soon everyone was settled on the bed, any clothing still on promptly pulled off – even the lab coat, though Cecil made a sad hum at the loss of it. Earl wanted to ease his sorrow with a kiss, but as he reached for him, Carlos beat him to the punch, fingers curling against Cecil’s face, stroking his cheek apologetically as he kissed him, moving their lips together so that Cecil could only breathe from Carlos’ lungs. The radio host became a whimpering mess as he climbed into the scientist’s lap, fingers stroking at the hair of his chest. So there Earl sat, against the headboard again, just... watching and wondering if they really only wanted a threesome because they liked to be watched. If that was the case, wouldn’t they spare him a glance every now and again? Wouldn’t the agent from the vague yet menacing government agency monitoring them at the window be enough?

Carlos reached for him eventually, fingers curling around his erection and pulling once, twice, before he parted from Cecil’s lips to look Earl’s way, eyes glazed over with desire, and, well, love. It made Earl’s stomach flop to see it aimed his way, but the guilt followed soon after, because he knew it wasn’t meant for him. 

“Poor Early Bird,” Cecil purred, coming closer and crawling lewdly into the chef’s lap, batting Carlos’ hand away playfully so he could straddle his hips. “Hasn’t even gotten a taste of us yet.” Earl’s hands, just as calloused Cecil’s own, just as broad as Carlos’, circled Cecil’s hips, slid up his back, grabbed at his ass, because really, if they were only going to pay attention to him for a few minutes, he was going to make the most of it. Cecil dragged his cock against Earl’s stomach, grinning bright and crooked and just this side of dark, and oh, Earl’s blood was pumping that hot desire to the rest of him, to the tips of his toes, to his pulsing, eager cock, and then Cecil nipped at his mouth, kissed him, nowhere near as gentle as he had been with Carlos but that was fine, this was fine, this was _perfect_ , and Earl nipped right back, light but firm, a punishment for being ignored that he’d never put to words. 

As mouths explored each other, Carlos settled behind Cecil, leaned against him, but his hands came to Earl, fingertips mapping out the inside of his thighs, hands settling at his hips so that his thumbs could stroke gently, firmly, in a way that had Earl arching and moaning into Cecil’s mouth, desperate for something more. 

The hands slipped away, returning slick and ready after only a moment and a few clicks of a bottle cap, but they were not intended for the quivering mess that Earl had become. 

Cecil gasped above him, keening high and wanton and incredibly pornographic, falling against Earl so that he could pant against the crook of his neck, hips arched back so Earl couldn’t feel his cock pressing against his own anymore. Cecil thrust back against fingers no doubt stretching him wide, until even his head fell back, away from Earl, so he could lean completely against Carlos to better hear the soothing praises - _just like that, Sweetness, love seeing you like this, Hun, I know you want faster but we’ve got to take our time, gotta make this perfect for you_ – pressed into his shoulder. 

Three really did seem kind of crowded, Earl thought, catching his breath, his dick still throbbing with each heartbeat, lonely in his lap, as he watched the pair work together. Watched Cecil thrust back, watched those nimble fingers slide into unruly, curly hair, keeping Carlos’ mouth pressed right there at his shoulder so he could feel the words laced with kisses against his skin like it spurred him on, like he needed it, and really, judging by the dark, angry, beautiful colour of his cock, it really _was_ doing something good for him. With one hand tangled in Carlos’ hair, Cecil’s other slid back, in a no doubt uncomfortable position, stroking at whatever skin he could find – Carlos’ ribs, his thighs, his stomach – and Earl wished it wasn’t so romantic, so obviously well-practiced, so that he wouldn’t feel like an intruder if he did the same. 

Cecil’s wandering hand gripped at the bed, face contorting in discomfort and pleasure all at once, breath hitching, whole body stilling, until he _moaned_ , something the agent by the window would have no problem deciphering, a lewd and dark and gruff _Carlos_ , the name drawn out like it was being pulled out of him by a demon or a being that was most definitely _not_ an angel. Earl shivered at the desperation of the sound, at the silkiness of that unhinged voice, at the fact that they’d only just begun and Cecil was already drunk with it, mouth open and slack, eyes shut tight in anticipation, skin flushed with desire and sweat. 

And then Carlos began to thrust and Cecil lost any semblance of composure. His body reacted, bucking wildly, grinding back, trying to set a pace that Carlos wouldn’t allow. The scientist’s arms encircled his lover, one around his chest and one snaking around his waist, holding him closer, fingers splayed against Cecil’s quivering stomach, keeping him steady, grounding him. 

In that moment, amber eyes, hungry and glazed over, were on Earl until his hands joined his, stroking trembling thighs, mapping out the expanse of Cecil’s chest, ribs, pelvis, until Cecil was all but sobbing, unable to ride Carlos’ cock the way he seemed to need. One of Cecil’s hands was still tangled in Carlos’ hair, but the other curled around the back of Earl’s neck, pulling him closer with surprising strength so that they could kiss, so that once their lips parted, Cecil could invade his mouth and steal his breath, could fuck his tongue against Earl’s the way he wanted to buck back against Carlos, uninhibited and wild. 

Carlos hummed and shifted behind Cecil before doing the unthinkable - pulling him _away_ from Earl. Earl, for his part, tried not to take it personally, but he couldn’t help the desperate huff of air that escaped him, how his lips followed Cecil’s after they parted, how he let his hips grind upward to give his aching cock some form of relief. “Such lovely noises,” Carlos hummed, voice dark as honey, rough as gravel, and it took a moment for Earl to realise that he was talking about _him_ , and suddenly the blush in his ears spread to his cheeks and neck. 

Carlos wasn’t pulling Cecil away at all, only settling him down so he could rest on his forearms, or, if all strength left him, on his face and chest, all while the scientist held his ass up and continued his slow, hard pace of fucking. His aching cock was lonely no more, Cecil’s mewls and whimpers and _oh please, oh yes, gods – please, Carlos, so good to me_ pressed against his dick. Cecil, no longer able to hold onto Carlos’ hair, clawed at Earl’s lap, at the dimple where leg met pelvis, at his abdomen, moaning and drooling against his cock. The chef pushed sweaty hair out of Cecil’s eyes, only to look up to find brown ones staring at him laced with desperation and a burning desire that infected Earl and made him feel flushed with need. And as Cecil took hold of Earl’s dick and swallowed what he could, rough-skinned fingers wet with spit pumping at the rest of him, Earl leaned forward to kiss Carlos. 

Earl’s lips were parted, ready, and though Carlos didn’t fuck his mouth like Cecil had, it was clear he was in control, taking kiss after kiss as he pleased, slow and languid no matter how Earl moaned into his mouth or bucked into Cecil’s. 

The pace didn’t give him away, but the kiss did. Earl could feel Carlos grow needier, could feel his breathing go ragged, and when Earl pulled away, he could see it in his furrowed brows and the flush of his chest. “If only you could see him, Cece,” Earl rasped, and if he whimpered at the end of it, no one called him out on it. “Hair’s a mess from where you pulled at it, lips are swollen from how I used him before, from how he kissed me – oh, Cece, he’s – nng, _oh_ – he’s coming undone…” 

The strength it would take to keep Cecil still would no doubt bruise him, which was maybe the only reason Carlos didn’t keep him steady, the only reason he let Cecil thrust back so frantically, whines and moans muffled by the obscene slurps on Earl’s cock. Earl could feel the shift in his pulse, in the way Cecil’s cheeks hollowed and he sucked, and he stroked his hair through it, trying to soothe him with hushed words, but any praise or murmurs about how debauched Carlos looked behind him only made him rougher. Earl wasn’t sure when Carlos’ hand had taken to stroking Cecil, but soon Carlos arched and sucked in a breath, folding himself over his lover, and Cecil pulled off Earl’s dick just in time to cry out, to _scream_ in a language he didn’t understand, with a darkness that would have had his spine tingling with fear if he wasn’t close – _so close_ – himself – 

Cecil stilled, gasping for breath like a drowning man, dick twitching and spurting onto the bed between Earl’s legs, all while Carlos was draped over him, around him, a blanket that was still and gentle and weighed him back down from his high, back to the world of the living, whispering his adoration in a language that Earl definitely understood this time. 

When their breaths evened, it was clear from the glazed look in Cecil’s eyes and the heaviness in his lap that he was down for the count. Carlos was careful as he pulled out, as he repositioned his boyfriend, until Cecil cuddled against Earl’s lower half, an arm draped around a thigh and pulling it close, snuggling against it, body lax and loose and surprisingly adorable for someone who was still so flushed with the afterglows of sex. Carlos chuckled fondly, pushing sweaty hair out of his lover’s face, before surprising Earl by kissing him. 

It was less dominating this time, far more casual, leisurely. Intimate. Carlos kissed him like he had all the time in the world to do it, without any rush, with the assurance that it’d happen again. He slicked Earl’s cock up with cum from the bed, from his own dick, with the precum still dripping from Earl’s desperation and worked him like that, thumb dragging against the slit, hand twisting and sliding down. “He got you real wet for me,” Carlos commented against his lips, palm wet from Cecil’s drool, and despite how the statement was so matter of fact, so curious and scientific, Earl moaned all the more for it, pressing the noises into Carlos’ neck so he wouldn’t disturb Cecil, already asleep beside him. 

It wasn’t long before Carlos’ touch became too much for him. Earl’s fingernails left welts on Carlos’ skin as he pulled him closer, as he fucked his hand, chasing the feeling of completion until he found it, oh, _oh_ – and Carlos helped him ride it out, whispering sweet things into his ear – _so good for us, Earl – we’re so lucky, so happy, you’re so perfect_ – until he streaked dark skin with cum, breathless, boneless, and sated. Carlos chuckled and pressed a kiss, chaste and sweet, to the corner of Earl’s mouth before shifting them so that Earl was laying down instead of being supported by the headboard, Cecil wrapping both arms around one of Earl’s own and nuzzling into it. 

Carlos left while Earl was still trying to catch his breath, still trying to clear the fog from his mind, and returned with warm cloths to wipe each of them down. Once that was taken care of, he settled back into bed, right up against Earl, so that there was a weight, heavy and comforting, on either side of him. 

As sleep came to him, as he nuzzled into Carlos’ hair and squeezed the hand that had found its way into his own, Earl decided that if three was crowd, he was more than happy to be a part of it.


End file.
